


Frost

by WolfstarGarden



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Marauders' Era, R/S 24 Hour Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 15:09:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13297479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfstarGarden/pseuds/WolfstarGarden
Summary: Wherein Sirius thinks dumping a tub of glitter on Remus' head is a good way to cheer him up.





	Frost

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: Winter Moods Use as many of the following concept in conjuction with the them as you like: Spilled glitter, a dusty bookshelf, a locked box, a mutual interest, an unexpected guest.
> 
> Covered everything, though some aspects are so subtle they might just be missed. *shrug*

Normally, the icy bite of a winter wind wouldn’t bother Remus. He liked the feeling of being wrapped under two cloaks and padding around the light, slushy snow, joining the others for James’ patented ‘Christmas Mischief Frost Fair’ on top of the frozen lake. The Giant Squid even joined in, punching holes through the ice and tripping students off their skates.

But today, exhausted after last night’s full moon, Remus had decided to stay in and rest. The dormitory was too barren and the common room too busy, so Remus took solace in the library. It was toasty warm and smelled of spiced rum – Madam Pince was dozing behind her desk.

Other students seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Remus, milling between the bookshelves or grouped around the tables. Trying to avoid attention, Remus slipped to the farthest stacks and disappeared within their dusty confines.

He didn’t really want to study, but there were some fiction novels kept at the far back. Madam Pince seemed to think fiction reading was not a worthy pursuit and deliberately kept the area uninviting.

Remus knew what he was looking for – an old favourite: _The Fool of Carreaux-Clove Fields_ by Gwendolyn Ritten. He slid it off the shelf, leaving a stripy track on the dusty wood. Casting a cushioning charm, Remus slowly settled on the floor and opened the book. While reading, it was easy to ignore his aching bones, the howling winter wind.  It was warm and dark and utterly peaceful.

About half an hour later a dull knocking sounded a few feet above his head. Before Remus had a chance to look up, something scattered over his curls and into his eyes. “Ugh!” Rubbing a hand across his face, Remus was utterly baffled when his fingers came away glimmering.

“Shit, sorry Moony!” Sirius dropped to the floor beside him, broad fingers gently brushing ... _glitter?_ from his cheekbones.

“The fuck, Sirius?” Remus asked, voice hoarse. “Why are you dumping glitter on me? Why are you even _here_?”

“Oh, real nice, Moony,” Sirius grumbled, but he was smiling. In a sweeter voice, he said, “I didn’t want you to miss out on the fun, so I used the Map to come and find you. And glitter makes everything better, you know – even though I did drop the bottle.” He moved closer, pressing his face against Remus’ neck, breath snuffling through his hair.

Remus reached up, tangling his fingers in Sirius’ scruffy bun. “You’re taking that Glam rock fad far too seriously, Pads.”

“You’re smiling, so it worked.” Sirius pressed his mouth against Remus’ throat; he tipped his head back with a murmur of appreciation. “Prongs is setting up that obstacle course you designed. I thought you might want to come and watch?”

“It’s cold out there.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” Sirius said, teeth grazing the curl of Remus’ ear. “C’mon ... it’s not right without you.”

Remus sighed. His tender bones and shredded muscles did not relish the thought of being exposed to the bitter chill outside. “I don’t know that I should...”

“We’ve got hot butterbeer. We have pudding. We have a purple fire with roasting sausages. I can put an impervious heating charm on your cloak...” Sirius’ mouth tracked a hot path over Remus’ skin, sliding up his jaw and catching his lips softly. They clung to one another.

“Mm,” Remus murmured against Sirius’ lips. “Or we could stay here, create our own heat.”

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius said playfully. “We can do that any time. The Frost Fair is a limited opportunity. Besides, I left your Christmas present down there.”

“Sirius, Christmas isn’t for days yet.”

“I know.” Sirius drew back, hands running vaguely across Remus’ shoulders. He stared at the specks of glitter dusting Remus’ robes. “But you’ll be going home tomorrow and I won’t see you until after the holidays ... I want to give it to you myself, not by owl post.”

Remus groaned. “Okay,” he said. Sirius eased him up from the floor and looped an arm around him as they walked with slow steadiness down through the castle and out into the blistering chill. Sirius pressed him close, brushing soft lips across his brow.

“There you are,” Peter grinned when they reached the lake. He shoved a scorched stick boasting a fat sausage into Remus’ hand. “Eat up, Moony, you look like death warmed up.”

“Death on ice, maybe,” Remus said with a dry smile.

James bounded over, flakes of glitter falling from his hair. Remus glanced as Sirius who shrugged happily. “Moony, just in time. I’ve set up the obstacles exactly as you outlined – Lily’s just helping Squidy get in position and then we’re going to start. This is going to be our greatest Mischief Fair yet!”

“So it should be, as it’s our last,” Peter said, rolling his eyes. James grinned and kissed him on the cheek then steered Remus across the ice, Sirius keeping him steady as the high impact rocked his joints.

Watching the other students milling about, dodging enchanted snowballs and setting off Filibuster’s, _was_ rather entertaining. “Don’t you want to join in?” Remus asked Sirius, who was still wrapped around him.

“Not as much as I want to spend time with you,” he replied. A moment later he wriggled and pulled a small box from inside his robes, passing it to Remus.

“What’s this?” Remus asked.

“It’s your Christmas present.”

Remus eyed the box as Sirius pressed it into his hand. It was rather small and smelt pleasantly of orange wood. A small padlock clipped it shut. “Padfoot, why is it locked?”

Sirius shrugged. “I wanted to be original. This is more fun than wrapping paper.”

“Right,” Remus’ voice was flat. “So ... how do I open it?”

Sirius grinned and there between his teeth was a tiny key. Remus sighed and reached out for it, but Sirius leaned back, making a muffled ‘no’ sound. Remus threw him an exasperated glance, then leaned forwards and opened his mouth to Sirius’, a careful sweep of one tongue over the other, lingering ... and then Remus pulled back and plucked the key from his own lips.

Sudden tension filled Sirius’ shoulders as Remus fitted the key to the lock and snapped the box open. “Oh,” he said with sarcastic delight. “It’s another key.”

“It ... it’s for my cottage. I bought one over the summer and I’m going to get it set up during the break. I thought ... I want you to have a key. Maybe come and stay with me. Maybe ... maybe not leave.”

Remus knew what he was supposed to say. He knew what he _wanted_ to say. The words that spilled over his lips shouldn’t have been the first ones, but they were just as important. “But what about my-”

“That was the first thing I made sure of, Moony,” Sirius said, twining their chilly hands together. “It’s all sorted. What – what d’you think?”

A smile stretched across Remus’ face. He didn’t notice the cold air biting his skin, or Lily pushing James through one of the holes in the ice, or Peter skipping over one of the Giant Squid’s tentacles. His fingers wrapped around the key.

Remus pulled Sirius close, bumping their foreheads together. Softly, he said, “I think fuck yes, Padfoot.”


End file.
